A Sound That Only You Can Hear
by LingLKS
Summary: Crawford's sanity is ripping apart at the seams. Can he fix it before he ruins everything he cherishes?


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Wei? Kreuz and all associated aspects belong to Project Wei?. The song "A Sound That Only You Can Hear" belongs to the group K's Choice and this particular song can be found on the album "Paradise in Me". The movie "Lola Rent" belongs to some German people whose names I am unaware of and "The Nightmare Before Christmas" belongs to the incredible Tim Burton.  
  
This fic starts right after the last battle between Schwarz and Wei?. You will run into minor SPOILERS for the TV series as well as hinting at the beginning of the Schwarz drama CDs. There is some fairly strong language, but nothing too severe (my Mom can still read it). Head-trips will abound and injuries exist, though they won't be caused in any severely malicious ways. There is humor because I can't write anything without it. My personality forbids me from leaving humor out of anything I do. I've used German phrases all of twice in this fic and in both places It's painfully simple to understand what it means. If you really hate me for not giving a translation, please tell me politely and I'll fix it.  
  
Many thanks to Raiyen for giving me all her thoughts while I was writing this! I reallyreallyreally appreciate it! ARIGATO GOZAIMASU!! (Go read her fics too!)  
  
~~~ signifies song lyrics~~~ //signifies telepathy// And now, I will cease my babbling and get on with the fic...  
  
Why didn't I see this coming?  
Of course I knew the building would cave in on us. I knew that a week ago. Why else would I keep up such stupid banter with that Wei? twit? Watching the floor crumble beneath a preoccupied man is really quite amusing. We all agreed on that. It's the only reason we stuck around. We could have just as easily taken the Fujimiya girl and escaped. But we decided we were prepared enough for the crumbling structure. Besides, letting Farfarello 'hurt God' keeps him under control, and according to him, "Surprises hurt God."  
But I didn't see this.  
I didn't realize Schuldig would have a wire wrapped around his throat when the building fell. I didn't think I'd end up covered in sand kneeling on the beach giving CPR to a man that isn't breathing, not knowing if he'd already stopped before the ocean swallowed us or not. No, I won't even think about that. I won't think about the red ring of raw skin around his neck. I won't think about the crimson line where the skin started to break.  
Damn it you bastard, BREATHE.  
Tilt head.  
Pinch nose.  
Breathe in.  
Right hand over left.  
Press.  
1... 2... 3... 4... 5...  
Gurgle... Splort... Cough.  
A ragged breath.  
It's about damn time.  
I help him roll onto his side to spit out the water from his lungs. I think his eyes are open. I can't tell, I lost my glasses somewhere in the ocean. Damn it. If only...  
//They're open. Stop thinking so damn hard about it. You're giving me a headache, // says an annoyed voice in my head. I immediately throw up my shields. Careless to let them down around him.  
But he was unconscious...  
I should know better.  
But I was...  
  
~~~  
The thought of you and me and me and you  
It's clear, it's blurry  
Your head, my mind, your mind, my head, as one  
It's real, the foolish worry  
~~~  
  
"Can you stand?"  
He moves to sit up, then cries out and falls back in the sand.  
Fear.  
"What's wrong?!"  
Too much emotion. Control your voice.  
But he's...  
//Ow. Fuck. Remind me not to lean on my right arm. I think it's broken,// comes the reply as he whines and clutches his arm.  
Okay. Broken arm. That's not too bad.  
Is there...  
"Anything else wrong?"  
I watch him lie there for a moment, going through the mental check.  
He looks up at me. //Left leg...//  
Crap.  
I roll up the pant leg. His breath hisses through his teeth. I have the distinct impression that kneecaps don't belong half way up one's thigh, but maybe that's just me.  
"Your knee's dislocated."  
That's putting it lightly.  
"Ow. So that's what hurts so fucking much."  
Ache.  
STOP.  
"Come on." I help him into a sitting position then remove my coat. He watches in puzzlement as I fold it into a semi-triangular shape and tie the ends together, creating a very haphazard sling. He winces in pain as I ease his arm into it.  
He doesn't realize how much caution I'm really taking...  
As it should be.  
I don't want him to be in pain...  
Unavoidable. He's seriously injured you moron.  
I know that already...  
"You sure you're not trying to kill me under the pretense of kindness? It's not exactly one of your better known qualities." He's smirking.  
NO...!  
"You're of no use to me dead."  
"I'm of no use to you injured."  
"You'll heal. If you rise from the dead, then I'll be impressed."  
His smirk widens. "Oh, so you'd like a repeat performance? I must say, you really need a tick tack."  
Oh dear God...  
My eyes narrow. I pull him to his feet, non-too gently.  
"OW! Jeez, back to normal."  
"You were expecting otherwise?"  
"After a near death experience, a man can dream, ja?"  
"Hn. Let's go."  
I sling his good arm over my shoulder and help him hobble to the car already waiting near by. Nagi and Farfarello had better already be there. I really don't feel like waiting and without my glasses I can't be the one to drive.  
  
~~~  
I feel you and you feel me as I feel you  
It's good, it's scary  
The speed, the heat, it's deep, and steep  
It's light but hard to carry  
~~~  
  
Farfarello laughed when he saw Schuldig. He said that his injuries hurt God. Nagi seemed worried, but tried not to show it. Instead he complained that he would be the one to have to drive. After Schuldig received the treatment he needed from a local hospital - and after all the staff members of said hospital had their memories altered - we fled for a hideaway we had prepared in Bavaria. After defying Eszzette, it is only a matter of time before Rosenkreuz figures out it was our doing and comes after us.  
It's been a month now and so far we've gone undetected. Schuldig's constant whining has long ago passed the point of irritation.  
"Oi, Crawford, hand me the remote. I can't reach the damn thing and it's the fifth time they've shown this commercial!" comes the nasal plea from the living room. I curse myself for not having the foresight to have better insulation put into the walls as I shut the door.  
//You could at least pretend to care, Crawford.//  
Insulation doesn't stop telepathy though. Damn.  
//Get out of my head. Now.//  
//Get me the remote and I will!//  
Irritation.  
//Ask Nagi.//  
//Nagi's not home, remember? He went out after breakfast.//  
//Then ask-//  
//You put him in a straightjacket hours ago! How the hell is he going to bring me the remote?!//  
Aggravation.  
I stand from my desk and abruptly throw open the door. "Do you have any idea just how irritating you are?"  
He smirks. Bastard.  
"Maybe if you all didn't hide your thoughts from me I would have a clue."  
"You could certainly use one." I pick up the remote from next to the TV.  
"Why the hell do we put the remote next to the TV anyway? The whole point of a remote is so that you DON'T have to get up and walk over to the TV."  
Does he ever stop talking?  
I toss the remote over my shoulder to him.  
...  
Oops...  
THUD  
"OW! That's my fucking arm you asshole!! Where the hell are you going, I'm not done yelling at you! Heartless bastard!"  
"I'm getting your pain medication."  
"Damn right you are!" He continues to cuss me out under his breath in German. As if I don't understand it.  
I retrieve the painkillers and then pour a glass of water. He hates taking pills dry. They get stuck in the back of his throat and he feels like he's choking all over again. I bring them to the TV room where he's still cradling his arm and... pouting?  
I want to laugh. I really do...  
No. That would be completely unacceptable.  
It would probably make him more upset anyway...  
So don't.  
I wordlessly set down the water and hand him his pills.  
"NOW he's considerate," he mutters, popping the pills in his mouth and downing his water.  
I want to apologize...  
No.  
I wasn't thinking, I'm so-  
NO! "NO!"  
I turn and walk back to my study. I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. I glance at him over my shoulder as I move to shut the door.  
His eyes look ready to pop out of his head and his mouth hangs completely slack in shock.  
SHIT.  
"Craw-?"  
I slam the door shut.  
  
~~~  
Listen when I'm silent there's a  
SOUND that only you can hear  
Listen when it's quiet I know  
You can hear it, cover up your ears  
COVER UP YOUR EARS  
~~~  
  
Careless. Completely careless.  
He heard...  
He heard me yell. That's all.  
I don't believe that...  
Yes I do. There was nothing else TO hear. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.  
Schu...  
Schu? SCHU?! What the hell is wrong with me!?  
A lot of things...  
I HATE YOU.  
I know. I hate me too...  
Frustration.  
I pick up my lamp and hurl it at the wall. The shrieking crash is somehow soothing to my anger.  
What's wrong with you...?!  
What IS wrong with me? I should calm down. No sense in losing my cool.  
There's a knock on the door. "Crawford? Crawford! Are you okay in there? What the hell happened?"  
Great. Just what I need.  
"Nothing. Go back to your TV."  
The door opens.  
God DAMN it, why the hell didn't I put a lock on that door?  
Schuldig stands in the doorway, well, 'stand' probably isn't the appropriate term, it's more like clinging to the doorframe. What is he doing up without his crutch anyway? He looks concerned. He looks around the room, then at me.  
"What do you want, Schuldig?"  
He pauses, looking at me incredulously. "What are you doing in here?!"  
"That's none of your business."  
"I'm making it my business!"  
I grit my teeth. "Schuldig. Get out of my room."  
"Like hell I will, I'm worried about you, damn it!"  
"I don't want you to be worried about me!"  
"Stop being so childish and tell me what's wrong!"  
That's funny. My mouth is open but nothing's coming out...  
Did HE just call ME childish?!  
He's right, you know...  
Not NOW. "JUST SHUT UP!"  
I'm pulling at my hair. I can't take this. I don't know what I'm doing anymore, my head feels ready to rip in half, I WANT to rip my head in half and maybe than there'd be some peace and quite and why is someone screaming?!  
I blink my eyes in confusion. When did I shut the door? Where did...?  
"OW! FUCKING HELL!"  
Oh crap...  
I throw open the door again.  
"Schuldig!"  
There he is, lying on the floor very unceremoniously, semi-curled in upon himself in pain, glaring daggers at me. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"  
I actually stagger backwards at that. He used his telepathy and his words are echoing around the inside of my mind as well as my eardrums. I grab onto the doorframe to keep from tumbling over myself. "Schuldig..."  
I don't think he heard me. He uses the coffee table and pulls himself to the couch. He takes hold of his crutch and works his way onto his feet so that he can look me in the eye. His eyes meet mine and I stop breathing.  
  
"First, you throw the remote at me, I can deal with that, I even provoked that! Then, you start talking to yourself - yes, I heard that! - and I still didn't give you shit about it!"  
I think my heart just stopped beating as well.  
"Next, you start throwing a tantrum in your room, which really isn't my problem, but, hey, I had this strange idea that maybe something was wrong with you! So I come in to make sure you're okay and what do you do? THROW ME ON MY ASS!!"  
I wonder if this is how someone feels when they know they're about to die.  
"Now, maybe to you I'm just someone you have to put up with 'cause I'm USEFUL to you and won't tell Rosenkreuz what a backstabbing little SHIT you really are, but I actually give a damn about you and the others! So get the hell off your high horse, pull the stick out of your ass, AND GET A FUCKING CLUE, YOU DICK!!! 'CAUSE I'M NOT GONNA STICK AROUND SO THAT I CAN PUT UP WITH THIS CRAP!!!"  
  
~~~  
Your hands, my mouth, your mouth, my hands  
The weight of what we're thinking  
No words, the air we breathe  
It's not liquid, but we're drinking  
~~~  
  
I want to die. For the first time in my life, I really just wish I would die. Right here, right now. What do I say to all that? He's right. There's no debating that, not even with myself. I can't even hang my head in shame, he won't stop glaring at me and his eyes are burning into me. I don't dare look away.  
"Schuldig, I..." Oh dear God, did my voice really just crack that bad? I can't do this, why won't he stop glaring at me like that? There's a little vein ticking away in his forehead. He almost looks like he's waiting for...  
"OF COURSE I'M WAITING!!"  
Shit. I can't even concentrate enough to put up my shields. Shit. Shitshitshitshit...  
He lets out a noise almost like a growl and turns away from me. "Why do I even bother?" he mutters to himself. I feel like the whole world is crumbling away from me.  
He's walking away...  
The world is falling...  
Walking away...  
I'm falling...  
Wait! I still need to...  
"I'm sorry..."  
Did I really just say that?  
He stopped.  
"You're sorry." It's a statement. "You're sorry?" Strike that. It's skepticism. He's going to leave, I just know it. He's going to walk out. Will he just go to his room? Will he leave entirely? Will I ever see him again if he does? Will he ever look at me the same again if he doesn't? What do I do? I'm completely lost. My precognition can't help me and at this point I don't think I even WANT to know what the future holds. I fucked up. I really fucked up. I don't think I can fix it this time. Schuldig...  
He sighs. "You're sorry." It's... a statement? He turns around to look at me. Anger, hatred, bloodlust. I was expecting any of these to be evident on his face. But, concern? Where the hell did THAT come from?  
//You're one messed up S.O.B., you know that, right Crawford?// Oh. That's where it came from. He hobbles his way back over to stand in front of me. What's he doing? Damn it, I'm so confused. I hate being confused. I have no control over the situation whatsoever. He smirks. "You should try not to be such a control freak. You're putting too much stress on your little brain. It can't handle it."  
Hey... "Are you trying to counsel me or insult me?" He smiles. Is that relief I'm feeling?  
"Maybe a little of both." He drops his crutch. I sigh and bend down to pick it up for him. Why's he laughing? As I stand back up to hand it to him, I find his arm draped over my shoulders. Wha...? Damn. He's laughing at ME, isn't he? "Yes. I am." He pats my shoulder. "You really need to lighten up a bit. It's not healthy to be so divided with yourself." I tilt my head to look at him. This is rather unsettling. He's being completely serious. Oh, NOW he smirks at me. "You should know by now that I can be serious when I want to be. I just choose not to be serious most of the time because you and Nagi have perfected it. Maybe Farfarello isn't serious per- say, but he isn't much of anything. So someone has to lighten the mood in this place or we'll all implode. At least that's how I see it." Interesting. Maybe he's right... "Of course I'm right." If his grin were any wider it would go off of his face. My first impulse is to glare at him. Tell him he's being ridiculous. Maybe even shove the crutch back under his arm and walk away completely.  
I laugh.  
  
~~~  
Listen when I'm silent there's a  
SOUND that only you can hear  
Listen when it's quiet I know  
You can hear it, cover up your ears  
COVER UP YOUR EARS  
~~~  
  
The woman on the television screams and all the glassware shatters around her.  
"Germans make very strange movies."  
"And Americans don't?"  
"Name one American film as deranged as 'Lola Rent'."  
"'Space Balls'."  
"That doesn't count. That's just a bad parody."  
"'The Nightmare Before Christmas'."  
"That's a children's classic."  
"That's the stuff children's nightmares are made out of."  
"I liked that movie as a child."  
"It gave me nightmares."  
I laugh. We're the only ones in the house right now so there's nothing for me to fear. Somehow Schuldig talked me into watching a German film about the very odd girlfriend of a demented drug dealer.  
"And for the last time, it's not about the drug dealer! It's about the possibilities of life!"  
"We'll see."  
I don't really mind the odd movie. I enjoy the time we spend together nowadays. At the moment, he's leaning on my shoulder, shoveling microwave popcorn down his throat. I still don't dare act this relaxed in front of the others. As Schu so eloquently put it, "We'll pull the stick out of my ass one inch at a time." But even with only this, I haven't argued with myself in months. At the same time, I haven't bothered to block my thoughts from him either. He tells me how much that means to him. It makes me happy.  
  
Happy. Happiness is something I underrated for a very long time. Probably because I haven't felt it in such a long time. But he makes me happy. Happier than I've ever felt in my whole life. I'm glad he's here with me. I don't know where I'd be without him, and I don't want to try to imagine this existence without his presence. Besides, why dwell on what could have been when I'm content with what I have?  
  
~~~  
Listen when I'm silent there's a  
SOUND that only you can hear  
Listen when it's quiet I know  
You can hear it, cover up your ears  
COVER UP YOUR EARS  
~~~  
  
"Ich liebe dich, Brad."  
"I love you too, Schuldig."  
  
END 


End file.
